


Ana Amari is actually the devil

by urgaylol



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, I have strange taste, I've never taken anything seriously and I won't start now, M/M, Romantic Tension, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, a lot of dialog because I have a philosophy fetish, basically just a collection of scenes which are moderately tied together, but not in like a pretentious way, hello I'm not even 20 but I totally know what it's like to be a 40 year old assassin, idk how to tag, my bad sense of humor, no really my sense of humor is very specific you have been warned, or at least a bunch of stuff that I weirdly think is cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-02 23:00:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14555406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urgaylol/pseuds/urgaylol
Summary: Alternatively named: Five times That Hanzo Shimada Did Something So Cute That Jesse McCree Was Struck with the Intense Desire to Punch a Cow, Square in the Face(also this thing is finished, didn't mean to add a chapter)





	1. the trouble with felines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting out pretty stereotypical. This chapter is different from every other one, in that it's shorter and has less dialog. I can't tell if it's the worst chapter, or the only good one.

The first time it happens is well before Jesse McCree calls Hanzo Shimada a friend.

At this point in time, Jesse doesn't particularly like Hanzo, but he doesn't dislike him either. He is well aware that the man is, technically speaking, his friend's attempted murderer. But Genji doesn't seem to hold a grudge, and unlike what he might have done when he was younger, Jesse tries not to either.

He hardly thinks of Hanzo Shimada. Jesse can't deny the man is something more than a little nice to look at, but he takes himself so rigidly that Jesse finds his presence to be off-putting. 

Which was why the current situation is so strange.

Genji had thrown an engagement party, marking a wedding date with Angela. Wanting to be supportive, Jesse had gone with the rest of the team. Hanzo had kept to himself for most of the event, re-stacking solo cups and scrubbing dishes that were clearly already clean.

It isn't until Hanzo is seated on the couch that he catches Jesse's attention.

"She likes you." Brigitte says, in ear-shot of Jesse. Curious of how the new recruit's conversation with Hanzo will go, Jesse wants a better look. He excuses himself from his conversation with Ana and Fareeha, leaving the two to bicker about clothing or boots or the negative ramifications of what was thought to be parental abandonment or whatever.

Brigitte is holding a cat. As a new recruit, she probably hasn't figured out yet that Hanzo prefers to be left alone. But Hanzo politely smiles at her, and the sly orange tabby she is cradling.

"She has questionable taste." Hanzo replies and Brigitte laughs.

In a flurry of orange movement, the cat leaps from Brigitte's arms, rubbing her face against Hanzo's knee before curling into a tight ball in his lap. She begins to purr so loudly that Jesse can hear it from his spot ten feet away. Jesse fiddles with his phone, hoping no one notices it isn't on.

"Oh. Hello." Hanzo says in the voice of a man unsure of how to handle a small creature. His hands hover uncertainly. 

"Don't worry." says Brigitte. "She won't bite you if you show a little love."

Hanzo reaches out a muscular, decorated arm to lightly trace a line of fur behind the kitty's ear. A sort of content smile starts to twitch on his lips as the cat's purring becomes louder. Jesse doesn't think he's ever seen Hanzo hold his face in such a way, because he would have remembered it.

"What is her name?" asks Hanzo.

"Maja."

"A lovely name for an exquisite creature."

Maja brings a slim, clever paw up into the air to try and catch the end of Hanzo's hair ribbon, which is dangling over the front of his shoulder.

"Ah." says Hanzo, sounding a bit breathless.

Before he can stop himself, Jesse lets out a humiliatingly high-pitched noise of amusement which he immediately turns into a mildly condescending whistle. Seeing Brigitte and Hanzo look up at him, he figures the natural thing to do is come over. So he does, and he gives the new girl a hat tip.

"More of a dog person, but this is nice too." Jesse greets, giving his unrequested opinion.

"Predictable." Hanzo says to Jesse.

"Why's that now?"

"The resemblance is striking. You are obnoxious and track mud in the halls, like a dog. I prefer an animal with the decency not to look me in the eyes while it does its business." 

The mean spirit of Hanzo's words is undercut by the soft hints of a smile he's shooting at Maja.

"I mean, if we're going of a' connections like that, then I can see why you enjoy cats." Jesse shoots back. "Aloof, withholding validation, and prissier than my great Aunt Delilah. Rings a bell." 

Hanzo scoffs, but keeps his fingers in the cat's fur. 

Jesse has certainly never thought of Hanzo Shimada as  _cute_. Rough around the edges, and very often with hands covered in blood that never seems to reach his elbows, Hanzo isn't gonna get anything by asking with wide eyes.

"You are reading into it too much." Hanzo replies. "Cats are simply soft and produce lovely sounds that many seem to...find..."

Hanzo trails off with a full-mouthed smile that is kind to his features.

"...distracting." Hanzo finishes. As the final step in her plan for more attention, Maja presses her front feet to his chest and moves her pink nose in, close to Hanzo's face.

"Look at you." mumbles Hanzo, tapping her on the nose with his own.

Hanzo's eyes are filled with wonder while Jesse is filled with the sudden, intense desire to punch a cow, square in the face until the image of Hanzo pressing his nose against an adorable tabby is filed away to a part of his brain that can process it properly.

"Aww." Brigitte gushes.

"Lucky you ain't one a' those distracted people, though, right?" Jesse replies with a smile, hoping not to scare him off.

No such luck. The joy on Hanzo's face is replaced by embarrassment, and then stone-cold nothing. He carefully nudges the creature off his lap, shooing her back to Brigitte. Jesse immediately regrets teasing him.

"I must go. I have a different communal gathering I must attend." Hanzo lies, not even trying. He bids Jesse and Brigitte goodbye and he's off, doing all but jumping straight out of the window.

"Did I do something wrong?" Brigitte asks Jesse.

"Nah, sweetheart, it was my fault. You did a good job. I recon he came out more than the time he got smashed at Genji's last party."

Brigitte shrugs, bids him farewell to use the bathroom, and Jesse is left to wonder what the fuck had just happened and why the fuck he cares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This specific scene was inspired by Spock's reaction to a tribble in Trouble With Tribbles sue me


	2. the teacher said not to copy answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is more my usual style, and the style of which will be more standard throughout later chapters.

The second time it happens, a few long weeks later, Jesse and Hanzo are friendly acquaintances. Hanzo has stopped sneering Jesse down every time he tries to start a conversation, unless it's for show. Jesse's not completely sure what initiated the shift, but it doesn't really matter because to his pleasant surprise, he's found that Hanzo is dry and clever and fun to talk to about books, although the man never lets it happen for very long. Eventually, he always goes stiff, thinks of a poor excuse, and bolts off.

He does, however, accept active banter on missions.

Hanzo is sitting in the corner of Jesse's eye, across from him in the mess hall. Jesse is between Genji and Fareeha, but Hanzo was seated by himself, per usual. Usually, when Hanzo finishes his breakfast, he'll leave in favor of being somewhere else, presumably with less noise. But today, he's still seated, with a pencil, paper, folder, and a half eaten donut. And a ruler.

And reading glasses. Little rectangular-lensed things, implying the man was far-sided. Jesse's never seen him wear them before, but then again, Hanzo was usually eyeing things far away.

A few strands of Hanzo's hair have fallen free from his pony tail, and they frame his face like they would for a surprisingly-single librarian.

Jesse can't help it. He excuses himself and makes his way across the room.

It's not far, but Jesse briefly considers pretending he's just on course for the trash can as he gets closer and his nerves falter.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks Hanzo, ignoring the whistle from Genji.  

"No, but I cannot promise I will be entertaining."

"I'll put you down for a soft yes, then." 

Jesse sits, and looks to Hanzo's pencil and paper. The man is drawing shapes, symmetrical ones with many sides. Inside each other. Jesse has no idea what he's doing.

Jesse can see that something is off about Hanzo's face now that he's in closer range, a discoloring of his left cheek. Upon closer inspection, Jesse finds there's a nickle-sized circle of brown covering what was usually the light tan of Hanzo's skin. Jesse looks down at Hanzo's chocolate donut and makes the connection. 

"This some kinda abstract art?" Jesse asks, pointing at Hanzo's paper. Hanzo seems offended by the notion.

"I am calculating the value of pi."

"Oh, shit, Hanzo, you're gonna be real excited when I tell you that a coupla' Egyptians beat you to it. It's like, uhh, three point, uhhhhhhhhh."

It's at that moment that Jesse realizes he's a fucking idiot.

"I am aware." Hanzo replies, eyebrows raised but gaze lowered. "I'm also aware, unlike my present company, the value of pie to several decimals." 

"Then why are you doing math to find it?"

"It is something to do."

Jesse smirks, fully amused by Hanzo's choice of method to pass the time. There's something endearing about Hanzo genuinely enjoying math, with or without chocolate on his face. 

"And just how do these scribbles teach you pi?" asks Jesse.

Hanzo pushes his glasses up his nose, smearing the chocolate smudge further across his face in the process.

Jesse struggles to keep a straight face.

"Although my knowledge of calculus is far from limited," Hanzo answers, "I am only working with shapes that consist of straight edges, as the ratio of their diameter to radius is simple to calculate. If I draw a circle, and then draw a multi-sided shape inside of it, and then draw another multi-sided shape outside of it, I can-"

Jesse stops listening because he's bored, but throws out a couple of well-timed 'uhuh's. 

"Are you even listening?" Hanzo asks when he catches on, exasperated.

"Uhuh, yeah. What's in there? You got worksheets?" Jesse pries, pointing to the tan folder Hanzo has out. 

Hanzo doesn't answer but he also doesn't shoo Jesse's hand away when he reaches for it.

Inside the thin, worn thing, Jesse finds pages of work with geometry, an entire sheet that seems to just be a Euclidean fanpage, and behind all of that, pages and pages of writing. Hand writing, because apparently Hanzo has never heard of a keyboard.

Hanzo's writing is just short of flowery, and in Japanese characters Jesse's can't begin to comprehend. Jesse pulls up a translation app from his phone and reads aloud, using the screen like a spy stone.

" _Although physical money is nothing more than a practical middle-man for the traditional bartering system, nearly all economic systems proposed throughout history have been exploitable, and with the opportunity systematically taken_ \--" Jesse cuts himself off. "Now, what is this?"

"Speculations." Hanzo replies, not even looking up from his work. "Different propositions for systems of government."

"Why do you got more than one?"

"Because I am not an omnipotent force, I am unaware of what would be the most ethical and sustainable way for Earth and its creatures to exist. There are questions I cannot answer. Does modern society need classes to be sustainable? Is there a perfect objective rule set for a judicial system, or would the outcomes be more just if we relied on humanity's ability to evaluate scenarios on a case-by-case basis? So I've provided several systems, and perhaps if we had more time and resources, we could try them all." 

Hanzo takes another bite of his donut and somehow manages to get even more chocolate on his face, this time, on the end of his nose. 

"Well, if you ain't the cutest megalomaniac I've ever seen." Jesse says.

Hanzo still doesn't look up from his page. He's used to Jesse's flirtation by now, and probably assumes it means nothing.

As it does.

"Patronizing." says Hanzo.

"Just saying. I recon maybe someone so boo-zhee shouldn't be the one to do this."

"Well, if you have a proposition as to what you believe the government should do, feel free to add it to the pile."

With delight, Jesse pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolds it, and slides it into the folder.

Hanzo immediately opens the folder and takes a look.

"McCree. This paper is blank." 

"That's the idea."

Hanzo groans, but Jesse can see the begins of a smile painting his mouth.

Jesse returns to reading Hanzo’s political speculations. Although they are diverse, all are very utilitarian to a respectable and sometimes frightening degree.

There's worse things to be, though.

“Now, what’s this?’ Jesse asks as he comes to the end of Hanzo’s ramblings to find what looks like a charcoal sketch. He only gets a short eyeful, though, as Hanzo immediately pulls it away before returning to his work.

“Woah.” says Jesse

“It is nothing.” Hanzo replies, a scowl forming. Jesse watches as the chocolate stains on Hanzo's face shift with his moving expressions.

“Didn’t know you drew.”

“I don’t.”

“Lemme see.” 

“No.”

For just a tiny moment, Jesse sees a sheepish smile morphing onto Hanzo’s face, threatening to cover his grimace. The man's pencil falters, and he covers his mouth with his hand for a second before he regains his composure. 

Holy shit, he likes the attention. Jesse is pleasantly surprised.

“I’m on my goddamn knees, here, doll.” Jesse begs, in a tone that should charm the pants off of anyone in a fifteen foot radius.

Hanzo pulls his hand away from his face. There's chocolate under his left eye now and Jesse has to stifle a laugh.

“Find something else to relieve your boredom.” Hanzo replies.

Jesse sighs.

“I’ll let you see an old picture of me in cutoffs.” he bargains. Hanzo looks up, and spends a few moments eyeing Jesse in thought before giving in.

“Hand it over.”

Jesse once again pulls out his phone and semi-reluctantly finds the image of himself at twenty-five, proudly baring to much skin to challenge a dare from Genji. His hair is messy, and his jean shorts are horribly fringed, but to be honest, the fact that he's in his mid-twenties and in a pose that is far from unforgiving is part of his motivation for showing it. 

Hanzo smirks as he ogles the photo.

"Like what you see?" Jesse mocks.

Hanzo wrinkles his nose.

"Too young." he replies.

Surprised, Jesse shrugs. He reaches into the folder to see the drawings.

There aren’t a lot, as Hanzo probably didn’t have the free time. The first sketch is of a darkly-shaded hawk, looking quite royal on a jagged branch.

Hanzo draws like someone who does it as an occasional hobby rather than a passion, but also as if he’d only accept himself to make something that looks pretty. Although it’s more scribble than smooth lines and Hanzo has made no effort to clean up, the bird's face is expressive. 

The other drawings are also of birds. Hanzo seems to like dark, graceful feathers and smart faces. Crows, ravens, and even a fancy looking Harlequin duck.

"They're decent." Jesse says.

"Decent?"

Hanzo is offended. Jesse grins with the implications.

"Good decent. Never thought you'd make quite the little artist." he says.

"I find it helps me focus. Therapeutic, you could say."

Hanzo says this with a twitch in his mouth, but his dramatic nature is challenged by the chocolate smeared all over his face that Jesse is still low-key thinking about.

"Why you lettin' me see this? Not that I ain't pleased, but you haven't given me the time a day until now."

“Because, Jesse?” Hanzo asks. It’s uncommon for Hanzo to use his first name, and Jesse is a bit shaken.

“Yup?”

“We are now even, and you will not tell anyone.”

Jesse watches as Hanzo makes a show of sending himself the cutoffs picture, before handing Jesse’s phone back to him with a wicked grin.

It's too much. McCree isn't usually one to find attempted blackmail cute, but with the smirk, the little glasses, the fact that Hanzo thinks Jesse gives a shit about the embarrassing photo, and the crap on Hanzo's face that he's still blissfully unaware of, Jesse's fist itches to come into contact with a cow. 

It's a strange desire.

"Oh, by the way, you got a little somethin' on your face." Jesse understates, finally. He can't wait anymore for what he knows will be Hanzo's embarrassed reaction. 

"Where?"

"Where don't you?"

Hanzo pulls out a mirror, and the moment he catches a glace at himself, he swears and begins to dab at his face with a napkin. Jesse suspects the rough paper isn't the only reason his cheek is turning pink.

"Why did you not inform me of the situation earlier?" Hanzo asks, in the defeated tone and with the expression of a man who was just hit with the realization of what he's looked like for the past ten minutes. Jesse's heart tries to tug his tongue into telling Hanzo how adorable the whole thing is, but he resists, not wanting to give himself away and humiliate his companion further.

“Do ya'll do commissions?” Jesse asks.

He's kicked out of the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll beta read tomorrow cause tonight I wanted to play cuphead


	3. it's not a two by four

The next time it happens, months later, they're friends. Just friends, not close friends, but Jesse can finally admit to himself that he's got a crush. He's always found Hanzo to be easy on the eyes, but as of late, he catches himself seeking out Hanzo's face more than usual.

They drink coffee together, and tell stories, and sometimes, Hanzo lets his guard down and makes Jesse laugh. Jesse is always delighted. 

Now, Jesse stands in Eichenwalde, admiring the sunlight that persists despite the chilly weather.

He's walking over a short footbridge when he hears the deep voice of someone with a Japanese accent taking himself too seriously, coming from the tower top to Jesse's right. Sensing a potential end to his boredom, Jesse makes his way over to the short path leading up the tower.

He travels as silently as possible, ditching his shoes at the risk of loud spurs blowing his cover.

Jesse starts to go over his entrance in his mind. He'll sneak forward about ten feet, sit on the fallen rock near the entrance to the round tower top, and startle Hanzo. And while the man is scowling, Jesse will shoot a clever line and try to get a swig of sake.

As Jesse turns the corner, he gets a glace at Hanzo.

The man is tucked away between two teeth of the tower, knees curled into his chest and face twisted in a steady, almost panicked gaze fixated on the palm of his left hand. His form, not what Jesse would tipically consider slight, seems overwhelmed by his baggy, silken clothing as he shrinks into the fabric.

It's more than a little strange. Usually when Jesse crashes Hanzo's nest, Hanzo is lazily writing something down or in the middle of an impressive shot.

"You alright there?" Jesse yells up as he nears Hanzo.

So much for his plan. 

"So rude. And loud." Hanzo says, without even turning to look. The moment Hanzo is aware of Jesse's presence, the panicked expression melts from his face. Hanzo drops his hand and turns to the view beneath him. The sight of Enchenwald is beautiful, but Jesse has to crush down a corny line about the site he _really_ wants to see.

"A man's gotta have a style." Jesse replies, and makes his way over to seat himself a foot to Hanzo's left, their backs duelly pressed against the grey stone of the tower top.

"Not a unique choice for an American; bright and noisy."

"I ain't that loud."

"Please. They say the Lone Ranger theme plays whenever you walk by."

Jesse can't help but smile whenever Hanzo says something playful. It's not very common, but Jesse suspects that it might be starting to happen more often.

"Mighty fine of you to noticing." Jesse responds, hat tip and all. He had considered shooting something back about the Japanese instead, but he had been unable to think of anything that didn't feel deeply racist.

Hanzo is still acting like something is wrong, although less obviously than when he didn't know he was being watched. The corner of his mouth twitches, and he refuses to meet Jesse's line of sight. His hand, the one he had been staring at, rests open on his knee. Something looks off about the position.

Hanzo does not respond to Jesse's comment, only clears his throat.

"What's going on?" asks Jesse, darkening his tone in the hopes that it will persuade his company to be truthful.

"Nothing. It is nothing."

"You can throw 'nothing's at me all day, but I'm gonna keep on asking."

"You will mock me."

"Wouldn't want you gettin' soft."

Jesse winks and Hanzo groans and rubs his temple. 

Usually when Hanzo does the temple-rub and groan combo (often at Jesse's horrible attempts of flirtation, questionable choices, and jokes where the punchline is the low-quality of the joke itself), Hanzo will use both hands. This time, he only uses one, his left hand still glued face-up on his knee.

"Something wrong with your hand?" Jesse guesses. 

"I suppose I will tell you." answers Hanzo, voice slightly muffled by his fingers.

"How can I help?" 

"Has Genji ever told you of my fear of splinters?"

"Not that I recall."

Hanzo removes his hand from his face, but still refuses to meet Jesse's gaze. 

"Although I believe myself to have a high tolerance for pain," Hanzo starts, "I have never been fond of the thought of small pieces, breaking off under my flesh and--"

Hanzo lets out a shaky little sigh.

"...staying there, for me to feel and be reminded of their existence every time I-"

Hanzo cuts himself off with a tremble.

"Mock me." Hanzo says.

"I ain't mocking you, but I am a little confused. Just two days ago I saw you fish outta bullet from your own shoulder like you were--"

"Bullets are large, and they play no tricks. Tiny shards of glass, try as I might, evade my eyes." Hanzo interrupts, and Jesse is more than glad because in all honesty, he didn't actually have a metaphor lined up for digging into your shoulder and pulling out a bullet, and probably wouldn't have managed one on the spot.

"Where's the glass?"

Hanzo holds out his hand. Jesse takes a moment to spot the shard, a tiny clear thing, only a few millimeters wide at its head. The skin around the glass is pink, implying Hanzo had been nervously messing with it.

Jesse pulls out a pair of tweezers from his hip bag, happy they're technically on mission so that he's in full uniform.

"What are you doing?" Hanzo asks as Jesse pulls his hand in.

"You may be farsighted, but I ain't."

"You don't have to."

"I know."

Jesse cups his metal hand under Hanzo's, trying not to focus too much on the power in the man's knuckles he can sense even without touch receptors.

Hanzo's hand begins to quiver, and when Jesse touches it with his flesh and more perceptive fingers, he finds it's slick with a thin layer of sweat. Jesse positions the tweezers, prepared to dig the thing out, but he can tell it might take a while. Hanzo looks away, his face twisted into a grimace.

"You want me to talk to you?" Jesse asks.

"Speaking seems to be your preferred state of being, so denying you that would make me a cruel man."

"Never stopped you in the past. What you wanna talk about?"

"Well, you could inform me of your original motivations behind crashing my nest."

"Same reason I do most things. I was bored."

Hanzo's palm begins to steady.

"Why my nest?" Hanzo follows. "I am not the only one currently open, and yet I am the most difficult for you to get to."

Jesse blinks. How is he supposed to answer that?

"You really askin' me why I came up here to spend time with you?" 

"I suppose I am."

"Breakin' the tension quick. I can respect that."

Jesse actually thinks about it. He realizes just how much he has gone out of his way recently to talk to Hanzo, and drink tea with Hanzo, and insult Hanzo's uptight nature, and position himself in places where he can get a good view of the man's butt--

"Listen, Hanzo, you said it yourself. I'm an American." Jesse starts. "I've been so goddamn submerged in Western culture, especially before my twenties, that I could use a break. Life's short, I wanna see different values and outlooks and art and, I don't fucking know."

Jesse leaves out ' _Also you're a right fucking babe and I want you to challenge me._ '

"Huh." Hanzo replies. He sounds unimpressed, but Jesse's learned it's a constant state. 

The talking seems to be calming him down. There's something intimate about the situation, helping a man who had made it clear from day one that he didn't need to be helped. Jesse isn't sure why he finds it cute that Hanzo's irrational fear supersedes his embarrassment, at least enough for him to accept the situation.

"And who's more different that you?" Jesse follows. "If I dug from New Mexico, I recon I'd end up near your home town." 

Hanzo snorts, an insulting sound. 

"If such a feat were possible, you would find yourself in the Indian Ocean." Hanzo replies. "Closer to Australia than my home. Would you like me to see if Jamison is available?"

Jesse grins.

"I prefer to speak to someone who's at least livin' on the same damn planet as me, you know?" 

"I think I understand. Although, I disagree with part of your explanation."

"Oh?"

"We are not so different, you and I." Hanzo starts. "We were both once wanders, who now seek the path of redemption. You are simply better at it than I am."

"Well, alright, scrap everything I said about different values. Maybe I find it comforting that a man from the other side a' the world can dress and talk so different than me, but live with the same subtext, if you know what I mean."

Hanzo hums with disagreement.

"Too complex. I simply enjoy your company because I find your company to be enjoyable." he replies.

"Hold up, now. This ain't one a those complements you give me where I realize a few days later that it was really the most goddamn brutal insult ever tossed my way, right?"

"Unfortunately for both of us, no. It is as I have said. Do not expect me to say it again."

Jesse wishes his smile was more of a cheeky smirk than a happy grin. As with all of his recent conversations with Hanzo, Jesse finds himself recounting what was (and wasn't) said to evaluate if any of it could be interpreted as flirtatious. Per usual, he's at a loss.

Jesse returns to his task. He hasn't been making great progress with the glass, so he digs in a little deeper with the metal tips. He's met with little outcome, except for a full-body wince from Hanzo.

No good. Hanzo's shaking now, too much for Jesse to get a good grip on the tiny thing. Hanzo pulls his hand away, and when Jesse grabs for it, he moves it out of reach.

"I apologize. My actions are involuntary." Hanzo explains.

Knowing Hanzo, he's too proud to tell Jesse how to calm him down. So Jesse takes a chance, momentarily dropping the tweezers to untie his serape, and wrap it around his companion's shoulders.

"Unnecessary." Hanzo claims, but he adjusts himself so that the cloth rests over him properly, and digs his uninjured hand into the fabric. Jesse reaches to Hanzo's problem hand once again, and this time, Hanzo meets him halfway.

Jesse can't help but think it looks sweet, a man who knows where every vital organ in a body is and how to reach it with a blade, wrapped up in a ball with a blanket.

"What were we discussing?" Hanzo follows.

"You were tellin' me about how you enjoy my presence." Jesse replies.

"Was I?"

"Can't say I'm not a little surprised." 

"And why would that be?" 

"Well, when we first met, you didn't seem to like me very much. Still wasn't sure you did until you told me otherwise."

Hanzo is silent for a moment.

"Yes, I was wary of you when we met." Hanzo replies.

"Really now."

"You seemed unpredictable. Masterless, with your strange ideas and occasional untimely intoxications. However, as time passed, I saw that your actions, while appearing to be inspired randomly, were actually fairly simple."

"Hey, you're pretty masterless now to, sugar."

Hanzo agrees, but sneaks a glace to Genji and Jesse realizes that if it wasn't for his brother, Hanzo wouldn't be here.

"So, anyway, how are my actions simple?" asks Jesse, bringing the conversation back.

Hanzo just laughs, a dark, melodic sound. His hand shakes, but not from nerves this time around.

"You have rules, gunslinger." he answers. "You do not hurt those to pose no threat, and you work to find the middle ground between ruthless, paranoid behavior and naive, overly-pacifistic behavior. You aren't fond of Overwatch, but you stay to protect those you've come to love."

Hanzo gestures his head down to Ana and Fareeha.

"Damn. Put some thorns on my head and throw me on a cross, cause you got me nailed here." Jesse replies, taking the lord's name in vain.

"You are also loud, rude, brash--"

"Woah, those don't got anything to do with--"

"With a poor taste in clothing--"

"Ok, I gotcha. I gotcha. Change the subject for me, pumpkin."

But before Hanzo can respond, Jesse finally manages to wrench the slippery shard from Hanzo's palm.

"Got it." Jesse announces, holding up the glass in the tweezers for Hanzo to see, and crushes the thing into powder.

As soon as he catches sight, layers of tension melt from Hanzo's face and form. His eyes flutter lazily and his mouth twists into a near-smile of relief. 

"Yeah, thought you might--" Jesse starts, but is caught off guard when his companion quickly wraps his arms around Jesse's middle.

It's an unexpected gesture, and Jesse's mouth threatens to widen in shock. They've never so much as shaken hands before.

Jesse returns the hug. It's a bit of an awkward position, with them both seated against a wall, but that doesn't stop the pounding in his heart. Hanzo's body is warm and he smells like pine needles and something indescribable, but sweet and welcome.

He's still wearing Jesse's serape like a goddamn parka and Jesse is in serious need for a meeting between his fist and Miss Ubre Blanca's dumb cow face.  Jesse pats Hanzo twice on the back and laughs, in an attempt to defuse the tension.

Hanzo pulls away quickly, clearing his throat. 

"I am sor--" he starts.

"Don't you worry about it." Jesse interrupts. "I like hugs, so I recon we're even now."

Hanzo scoffs.

"Was still childish." Hanzo replies, his voice still full of regret. But at the very least, he sounds less defensive.

Jesse earpiece hums to life as Ana informs him of impending danger. 

"Work to be done." says Hanzo, getting to his feet.

"Come out for a drink with us, afterwards." Jesse blurts.

"Thank you. But I fear my presence at such an event would make a few uncomfortable. Myself included."

Jesse gulps, steadying his nerves.

"Come out for a drink with me, then." he follows.

Hanzo is silent for a long, tense moment. Jesse prepares a good-natured response for if he's met with rejection.

"Fine."

Jesse jumps to his feet with repressed glee, somewhat regretting his choice of no shoes. He's covered in plant matter and dust.

"You gonna give that back to me?" asks Jesse, in reference to the serape still draped around Hanzo's shoulders. Hanzo peels it off, face like stone.

"You don't gotta, though." Jesse follows. "It suits you. Brings out your eyes."

Jesse is kicked out of the nest, his serape tossed harshly in his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mermaid from cuphead is lowkey kinda hot


	4. questionable taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only good chapter

The next time it happens, they're good friends. Jesse had never thought Hanzo Shimada would end up a close friend, but the months that follow prove differently. Jesse had found that his natural kindness and unnatural, forced patience had allowed himself to crack Hanzo's shell. Despite their horrendously different upbringings, they have similar taste and conversations feel easy and free.

Alcohol helped.

They drank too much. Hanzo had cut them down to once a week, and after 9 pm. Jesse had complied, mostly out of infatuation.

"What do you mean, you've never seen Star Wars?" 

"I mean, I have never, once in my life, thought it sounded like a good way to pass the time. So I have never subjected my person to the surely overrated experience."

Jesse didn't want to be that guy, the 'I can't believe you've never seen this' guy. But it's Star Wars. It's only the mid 21st century, the franchise couldn't be dying that quickly.

"Well, we gotta fix that." says Jesse.

"As long as I am not involved, feel free to make an attempt."

Jesse pats the spot on his couch next to him, and Hanzo makes a show of being reluctant. He had originally only come over for a drink, but Jesse is fine with an excuse to spend more time together.

Once Hanzo is firmly seated, Jesse makes a quick snack run to the kitchen, taking note to grab Hanzo some of the healthy shit he claimed to enjoy.

All he has is a whole stalk of iceberg lettuce. Which he offers proudly to Hanzo, who takes it with a miffed expression.

Jesse messes with his monitors and until he finds an original version of A New Hope. 

"Ok. Star Wars." Jesse starts, getting ahead of himself. "You got your prequels, which aren't great but tell their story. You got your spin-off games and shows, of varying degrees of quality. You got your high budget new-age sequels, which are solid, but they don't hit quite the same spot as what Imma 'bout to show you; bread and butter Four through Six, before George Lucas got his grimy hands on video editing software."

"I hope you are aware I have no idea what you're talking about." Hanzo replies through Jesse's excited ramblings.

There are a hundred movies Jesse wants to show Hanzo. Mostly Westerns, and nearly every John Carpenter movie. Star Wars has never been on his list, but that's mostly because he'd assumed the man had seen it at some point in his forty years of being alive and having eyes.

"That's fine." Jesse says.

"I also hope you are aware that three movies usually take, at the very least, six hours to view."

"That's fine."

It wouldn't be the first time they've spend so much time together. Personally, Jesse has noticed that Hanzo tends to let his guard down around hour three, if he makes it.

Jesse turns the lights off, and they begin. 

The familiar music is welcome, but Jesse hadn't remembered quite how old the movie was.

Hanzo makes comments, and keeps the banter going between the two of them, but is quick to silence himself when Jesse announces that something important is going to happen.

Throughout the film, Jesse focuses a little too much on their seating arrangements. Every time Hanzo shifts, his hair, free from its tie, pleasantly tickles Jesse's shoulder.

"The writing is...questionable." Hanzo comments as they wrap up on Four. "And the graphics are horribly outdated. The morals are simplistic. I don't understand the hype behind this primitive, mildly incestuous piece of fiction."

Without saying anything in response, Jesse sets up part Five with a grin. He knows Hanzo's tells well enough to induce that the man is at least enjoying himself enough to continue, even if it's just for Jesse's conversation and company rather than the movies themselves.

Hanzo is quieter for Five, at least in the start. He doesn't make any comments until the half-way point.

"I believe I may have witnessed this franchise, after all." Hanzo remarks, breaking the silence as Vader bickers with the Emperor in a way that somehow reminds Jesse of Jack and Gabe.

"Really now."

"Yes. Although it was called something different at the time."

Jesse tears his eyes off the movie in confusion.

"What?" he asks.

"Yes. I believe it was named; ' _An Educational Overview of the Typical Hero's Journey_ '. We watched the film in school."

Jesse smacks Hanzo on the arm and they both snicker.

"I also had a fever dream like this at one point." Hanzo follows.

Hanzo shifts his legs, bringing their knees together. Jesse pretends not to notice.

"Why is this horrible green child claiming there is no concept of 'trying'?" Hanzo spits. "I don't understand. Is he trying to state that end outcome is all that truly holds substance, no matter how hard we did or did not strive? Or is he claiming that if we truly want something accomplished, we will do it despite the odds? Why is the line so vague?"

"I dunno. Don't worry, the line ain't famous or anything."

"Good. Because of all the sentiments I can think of it representing, I agree with none of them."

Hanzo seems to like Five more than Four. He does, however, not seem to like Han Solo. 

"Why does this man make such reckless, stupid choices?" asks Hanzo, mild outrage boiling under his words.

"Cause that's his thing." Jesse replies, unable to find the right words. "He plays by his own rules, because why should he trust anybody else's? But then he does the right thing at the end of the day, even though he don't believe there's some inherent force of good in the universe. What's not to like?"

"Of course, he would be your favorite." 

Hanzo softens, but still occasionally shoots a judgmental glare or made a disproving noise every time Han comes on screen. It goes on until Jesse realizes what's going on.

Jesse smiles like an idiot at Hanzo for a solid five seconds before the man notices.

"What?" Hanzo asks.

"You think he's cute." accuses Jesse slowly, his grin widening with each word.

Hanzo's eyes flash with telling denial for a short second before struggles to remain his composure.

"You are incorrect. He is not my type." Hanzo denies. But the redness in his ears gives him away.

"I recon that's one of the fattest lies I've heard come outta your teeth, and I'll tell you, that's sayin' something."

"He is less a man and more a trope, and his sense of style is atrocious." Hanzo claims, but he's unable to keep from smiling sheepishly during the second part of his sentence. 

Hanzo realizes he's lost the battle, and shoves his face in his hands, presumably to cover the pink that Jesse has only ever seen in his ears spread to his face. Jesse can still see the hint of a smile on Hanzo's face, be it mixed with shame.

Jesse McCree cannot believe this is the same man who has more than his back during extreme combat, almost exclusively holds dark and bruiting facial expressions, and wipes the floor with the whole gang at poker every third Wednesday of the month without blinking an eye. 

Get a man who can do both, as they say.

Jesse could just fucking die. There's something about the situation that's so adorable that Jesse feels his chest swell with affection, and his breathing speeds up, just a touch. Everything feels lighter and at this point, he'd settle for a black and white horse.

"I will not hesitate to fucking stab myself." says Hanzo and they both laugh. Hanzo's is a nervous snicker, but a laugh nonetheless. Jesse's heart melts onto the floor, grows legs and eye stalks, and gets burned to a crisp by a flamethrower.

Jesse's afraid that if he opens his mouth he's going to make some high-pitched noise of delight, so he opts to keep his trap shut until his brain stops slamming randomly on the keyboard.

"Do not tell anyone." Hanzo pleads, his voice still audibly on the edge of a giggle.

"Don't you worry, doll, I ain't gonna tell anyone that mister perfect aim, cold-blooded assassin secretly wants goddamn Han 'shot first' Solo to hold him in his arms and--"

"You are loathsome."

"I'm sure the two a' you would be very happy together."

Hanzo is still grinning sheepishly, and Jesse can't help but push a little further before he backs off. He gets out his phone.

"What are you doing?" Hanzo asks, his hand subsiding.

"Writin' about you and your boyfriend. Just waiting for Ao3 to load."

Hanzo leaps at Jesse, trying to grab the phone from his hand.

He's cute when he's riled up. Jesse tries to ignore how conscious he is of the fact that Hanzo's on top of him, knees and arms tangling as they both struggle for the device.

"We are not children." Hanzo begs.

"Shit, forgot to enter a title, now it's yelling at me." Jesse continues. "What's a good ship name?"

Jesse doesn't get an answer, as he's hit with a palm thrust to a nerve cluster in his hips. Not too hard, and it doesn't hurt, but it's stunning enough for him to fall off the couch as Hanzo exits his lap.

"Rude." says Jesse, breathlessly.

"Join me when you have aged a few decades." Hanzo replies, hints of his embarrassment and smile still present in his eyes.

After a minute, Jesse returns to the couch. Hanzo returns to making deprecating comments.

 

Five draws to a close. Hanzo seems a bit sleepy, but doesn't protest when Jesse starts up Six. He does, however, insist on calling it Star Wars Three, despite and probably because of Jesse's protests.

About halfway through, during Jesse's obligatory Ewak rant, Hanzo lets his head fall against Jesse's shoulder, cutting his thought process short. 

"Oh, forgive me." says Hanzo, removing himself immediately. "I did not realize the extent of my exhaustion."

"It's alright. I don't mind none."

Hanzo is silent for a moment, and glaces at Jesse with an eyebrow raised.

"You can if you want to." Jesse says, heat rate picking up as if he was in fucking pre-K and like he wasn't the guy who incapacitated three adults today so that he could enjoy a few more moments of sweet, sweet life.

Hanzo reads between the lines, and lets his head fall to Jesse's side once again. His dark hair spills onto Jesse's neck, and Hanzo's body is welcome line of warmth.

"We're all adults, sweetheart." follows Jesse in an attempt to relieve the tension.

"You had me fooled."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel frer to comment, I like talking to people! (pls im so bored)
> 
>  
> 
> Also the bee queen from cuphead is lowkey kinda hot


	5. Winners Never Drugs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is twice as long as it needs to be.

By the next time it happens, movie night is a common occurrence.

"You sure he'll be alright, Mam?" Jesse asks Ana.

Hanzo is lying on his back in the couch in the break-room, while Ana "operates" on him.

Hanzo had been injured during their last mission. Nothing too serious, but he'd gotten a long gash down his torso, presumably from one of the flying shrapnel shards let lose during their 'who can help more civilians' contest. Pridefully idiot that he was, he had refused to mention the injury to anyone until he was caught bleeding all over the kitchen floor an hour after returning to base. Angela had not been present, so Jesse and Hana had dragged Hanzo to Ana, who had quickly fixed his skin and tissue with an extreamly quick-working, but painful method. She'd checked with Genji to make sure Hanzo had never had a problem with opioids, and was now feeding a wincing Hanzo painkillers in the middle of the break-room like mother's milk.

If Angela was here, they would all be dead.

"He'll be fine." Ana answers. "A little out of it."

"This is far from necessary." Hanzo claims, refusing the second half of the dose.

"Try to lift your arm, and then tell me if you still feel that way." 

Hanzo's forearm lifts about an inch before he yelps, and then growls with enough teeth to make Hana jump.

"That's what I thought." Ana follows. "The pain is irrational, as the cellular regeneration won't be halted by your movement. But it will affect your nerve endings. So if you wish to have any physical capacities for the rest of the day, I suggest you comply."

Hanzo complies.

"What should I do if his wounds open up again?" asks Jesse when Ana is done.

"Just rub some dirt in 'em. I told you, he'll be fine. You do good to watch him, now."

"Well, you wanna take shifts or something?" Jesse suggests, turning to Hana as Hanzo gets off the couch and sits down on the ground, pupils already blown wide and expression confused.

"I'm really sorry Jesse, but I actually can't help you with him." Hana winces.

"You better have a pretty good reason, missy."

"Because I don't want to."

Hana runs off, telling Jesse to "eat a dick, dumb shit" and leaves him to support a two hundred pound man by himself.

"You wanna help me out?" Jesse asks Ana.

She just laughs.

"How you doin', Hanzo?" Jesse asks the man who's still seated on the floor.

The strangest thing about the situation is Hanzo's eyes. Usually they're sharp and attentive, but now Jesse gets the feeling that Hanzo wouldn't notice if the walls started changing color.

"Do you think?" Hanzo asks back.

"Only once in a blue moon."

"No. Do you think?"

"Do I think what, pardner?"

"Do you think that?"

Hanzo is gesturing towards nothing, and Jesse has no idea what he's trying to say. Jesse sighs.

"Can you walk?" asks Jesse.

"Do you think that?" Hanzo repeats.

Jesse guides Hanzo off the ground. Hanzo throws his arm around Jesse's shoulder and they develop a way of transportation that consists of Hanzo shuffling his feet absentmindedly, and Jesse doing most of the work.

"Where are we going?" Hanzo asks. Finally a question that makes sense.

"I was gonna just take you to your bed. Unless you had another idea?"

"We will go to your place."

"Why?"

"My quarters are too clean."

Jesse opens his mouth to deny the order, but realizes maybe taking Hanzo to his own room might not be such a bad idea. An unsupervised Hanzo right now might get his hand stuck in the sink. Jesse pulls out his phone with his free hand to get Ana's advice.

> **To Ana**  
_is it safe to leave him alone and let him sleep?_

> **From Ana**  
_yeah, he'll be fine. stop asking_

Jesse puts his phone away, only to have it buzz a second later

> **From Ana**  
_unless he chokes on his own vomit. now that i think of it, vomiting is a side affect of what i gave him_

Jesse sighs, but starts to pull Hanzo along the short walk to his own quarters. Jesse doesn't like the part of himself that's looking forward to having a drugged out and potentially more honest Hanzo in his room with him.

Really doesn't like that part. Jesse marinates in self-loathing and makes himself promise not to do anything stupid, scolding himself for even having to make an effort.

 **> From Ana**  
_jesse, i trust you a lot. but im obligated to warn you that if you take sexual advantage of him, you are going to burn in a special level of hell that's reserved for child molesters and people who talk during the theater_

 **> To Ana**  
_why would I take sexual advantage of him_

 **> From Ana**  
_because you're in love with him_

 **> To Ana**  
_no i aint you candy having piece of subhuman trash. he dont appeal to me in the slightest_

__**> From Ana**  
  


"Do you think that all of the...?" Hanzo asks, bringing Jesse from his phone.

"Jesse fucking Christ, you're so fucking out of it."

As they near the door, Jesse is forced to shift his weight to grab his keys, and again to get the door open. He pulls Hanzo in, and before they get anywhere near a cushy surface, Hanzo seats himself on the floor with his back to the door they just came from. Jesse stands above, keeping an eye out.

Hanzo looks up at Jesse with soft eyes, and cocks his head like a kitten.

"Do you think that?" he asks again, and if he voices that stupid, nonsense question one more time, Jesse is gonna flip.

"Do I think that what, Hanz?" Jesse asks back.

"What was I saying?"

Jesse groans.

"Let's get you to--" Jesse starts, but gets cut off. 

"Do you think that with all of the advances we have made in modern medicine, the fact that we are nearing in on not needing to physically age at all, do you think there will be any negative psychological ramifications? It used to be that we were forced to watch ourselves and our loved ones become less attractive over time. While this was difficult, do you worry that there will be some loss of character when we no longer have to watch our partners grow harder to look at? That we'll be losing a part of ourselves, as a species? Threatening to grow more shallow?"

Hanzo's head is still cocked. Jesse rubs his temples.

He leads Hanzo to the bed, planning on taking the couch. Hanzo is babbling in Japanese now, which Jesse finds easier to wrap his head around.

"Wait. I am not yet ready for rest." says Hanzo.

It is only five thirty, to be fair. Jesse had just figured all that crap Ana gave him would have put him to sleep.

Hanzo sits down on the floor next to the bed, and Jesse joins him, making sure to keep a respectable amount of space between the two of them.

"You wanna talk, or something?" asks Jesse.

"Why are you sitting so far from me?" Hanzo asks right back.

"W-what? I ain't that far."

"You are five inches farther than usual."

"Didn't notice."

"I like it when you touch me." 

Jesse is speechless. A million responses come to his mind, but none of them seem ethically sound in this senario.

"Huh?" he goes with, instead.

"You touch me when we're alone, watching movies." Hanzo answers. "It is pleasant. I like it."

"Oh."

"Is that strange of me?"

"Nope, that's pretty standard. Nothing's wrong with you."

"Why do you do it?"

"Bed time." Jesse says, knowing Hanzo is inevitably going to pull him into a confession, or a detailed conversation on the nature of the limbic system and its primitive physical contact needs.

"No. I want to hear music." Hanzo requests.

Weak as he is, Jesse can't resist those fucking eyes. He grabs for his phone.

"No, my music. I've heard enough of yours." says Hanzo.

"What, you don't like Chuck Berry?"

"Play me Holst."

Jesse isn't that big on classical music, but he pulls up a playlist on his speakers.

"Play Jupiter." Hanzo specifies. "And inform me when it reaches the time point of one minute and forty-eight seconds."

"You got it, princess."

The fucking eight minute piece starts. Hanzo closes his eyes, letting out a noteless hum of appreciation. He smiles, and Jesse watches the space where his laugh lines fold into view out of habit.

"Never pegged you down for someone who so visibly enjoyed music." Jesse says, amused.

"Do you not think me a creature of passion?" Hanzo smirks.

Jesse is thoroughly frazzled.

"Sometimes." he admits. "Not when anybody's watchin', though."

"You are watching, now."

"I am." 

"Watch me."

Jesse watches as Hanzo stands up with ease, and struts his way to the middle of Jesse's room like he's minoring in musical theater. He pushes some dirty clothes out of the way until he's got a square eight feet of space. Jesse begins to wonder if Hanzo's difficulty walking had been more from confusion than lack of physical ability. 

His suspicions are confirmed with Hanzo starts to _move_ , exactly one minute and forty-eight seconds into the piece. 

Jesse's cigarette falls from his mouth, and burns a hole in his carpet.

Jesse has only witnessed Hanzo dancing once, some traditional, fisherman thing to get Genji to shut up. Hanzo had been more than happy to be booed off the dance floor that night.

But this, this is something else. Hanzo was apparently made for 3/4 time, flowing easily and freely but with a certain tightness and dedication. His hair ribbon and clothing and even the strip of gauze poking from under his gi twirl with his steps. 

It's obvious he's done this before. He stays with the beat of the timpani and brassy trumpets, even as they begin to accelerate. Hanzo knows when the tambourine comes in, and pulls off particularly advanced looking steps in time with the bursts of flat bells.

He's good. And he knows it too, and wants Jesse to know. The balls of Hanzo's feet never touch an indeliberate inch of floor. His style harnesses the dexterity of traditional ballet, but the basic dignity of more contemporary approaches.

But honestly, even if Hanzo was garbage, Jesse would have watched anyway to see the dramatic look of passion of his face, shining with sweat and stout with power.

It turns into a grin when he sees the look of awe on Jesse's face. Jesse takes off his hat.

As the crescendo and tempo come to a climax, Hanzo matches the ferocity and tugs his hair tie, the black locks falling over his shoulders and it's at that moment that Jesse McCree realizes he's fallen in love.

The swell of sound subsides and the next, much less interesting section of the piece begins. Hanzo falls to his knees, panting but with the same smile plastered to his face. Jesse's seen Hanzo smile before, but he's never seen the expression stay for this long. There's no immediate reordering of Hanzo's proud facial features into a stoic appearance, just more joy.

The dance had only lasted a little over a minute. Jesse claps, feeling like it's not enough. Hanzo winks, but it's only because a bead of sweat has rolled into his eye.

"I recon you are one of the most fascinating people I've ever met, Hanz." Jesse admits, unable to stop the melted butter he mixes into his tone.

"I like it--when you say kind things to me." replies Hanzo between breaths. "Although, I am aware I do not usually--act as if that is the case."

"At best, you shrug it off by invalidating my ability to make judgement calls."

"Cruel of me."

"Nah, it keeps me on my toes."

 Hanzo flops down onto Jesse's bed, and Jesse joins him. Although he still keeps the space between them as they lie together on their backs.

"You gotta tell me where you learned that." says Jesse. 

"My Kendo teacher. She insisted I learn to dance. She claimed it would add grace to my form and fighting spirit."

"Did it?"

"You tell me."

"You should do it more often."

Hanzo lets out a small laugh.

"I would like to. I always did enjoy her dancing lessions, although I would never tell a soul. Not even her."

There's a pause. Hanzo lays across the bed on his back, and Jesse matches his position.

"I wish to tell you a story." says Hanzo as his breathing begins to regulate.

"Alrighty."

"About Genji."

"Ok."

Hanzo is silent.

"Hanz? You gonna tell me?" Jesse asks after several long seconds.

"Tell you what?" 

"You wanted to tell me a story 'bout Genji."

"Who?"

"Your brother."

"My brother!"

When Hanzo starts talking again, Jesse can hear in his voice that he's on the edge of a smile.

"Many years ago, when I was only nine, Genji and I were punished for sneaking out." Hanzo starts. "We were grounded to our room." 

Hanzo at nine. Jesse thinks to the picture Genji showed him once, the two of them sitting back to back and happily munching ramen. 

"Genji laid face down on the floor, and was silent for so long I began to feel worried." continues Hanzo. "So, I asked him how he was feeling, and do you know what he said?"

"Wha'd he say?"

"He asked me a question. He asked me, 'What is red and not there?'"

"Ok."

"I was unable to provide an answer. So he told me-"

Hanzo cuts himself off with a deep, uncontrolled chort.

"None tomatoes." he finishes.

Hanzo laughs so hard that his back curves off the bed, and Jesse finds himself chuckling hopelessly too, if not just at his companion's happiness.

"I can assure you--the response made as little sense--in Japanese as it does in the language which is currently--on my tongue." says Hanzo between laughs.

"That's Genji for you." Jesse replies.

A few seconds pass, and Hanzo stops laughing.

"Genji." Hanzo repeats.

Jesse doesn't notice that Hanzo's crying until he sits up to take off his shoes.

There's no sobbing, no expression shift at all. In fact, if it wasn't for the tears leaking from his companion's reddened eyes, Jesse probably wouldn't have noticed Hanzo was upset. Hanzo's position on his back has the tears wrapping around the sides of his face, dampening the bed by his ears, gluing chunks of his hair to his temples. 

Jesse has never seen Hanzo shed a tear before. He's not sure what to do. Through all of Hanzo's happiness, Jesse had forgotten that this was a man who had been though horrid, unimaginable pain.

Hanzo sits up when he sees Jesse staring. Jesse is tempted to reach out and brush away the droplets that are now falling downwards, over the man's cheeks. He hates himself for the beauty he sees in Hanzo's newfound openness.

"McCree." Hanzo says. It's a request, but for what, Jesse can't tell. Apparently, even a drugged out Hanzo cryptically avoids total vulnerability.

"You want me to touch you?" Jesse asks, shoving his heart back down to his stomach, where it belongs.

"Please."

Jesse opens his arms and Hanzo falls into them, curling his knees into his chest and resting his head in the crook of Jesse's neck. 

"It is so hard." Hanzo says, and Jesse can feel tears wetting the back of his shirt.

"What's hard, sweetheart?"

"Everything. Accepting him as, that."

Jesse figures ' _that_ ' is referring to the newer, more CPU side of Genji.

"I am afraid to tell others how hard it is." Hanzo says. "I understand that a man being more bigoted than those around him is a state generally..."

"Generally?"

"I was going to say frowned apon, but I no longer rememeber what I was talking about."

"That's alright." 

Hanzo is silent for a few short minutes, but he does not let go and Jesse keeps him in his arms, rocking him just a tad.

"I worry I will never accept him." Hanzo admits simply, still without sobs but Jesse can feel the dampness refreshing in his shirt.

"What's keeping you?" 

"Old disdain for omnics is hard to kill." 

There's a bit of silence. Hanzo keeps his dark head pressed against Jesse's shoulder.

"Why it gotta be omnics?" asks Jesse, breaking the silence.

"I do not understand the question."

"Maybe the best way to not be angry with omnics is to not think of them as omnics. Think of 'em as an organization of, I dunno, conscious beings. You don't gotta tie a label to them. Because plenty a' groups of conscious beings hurt people. If the circumstances were different, your family could have just as well been ruined by the crusaders or Evil Ed's gang or somethin'."

Hanzo is silent for a moment. Unable to help himself, Jesse runs a hand through Hanzo's damp hair.

He's never touched Hanzo's hair before. It's thinker than he had expected, but feels wonderful under his fingers.

"What you say makes rational sense." Hanzo replies. "Perhaps if my spirit recognized omnic life as equal to that of a human, I would not worry that my brother's mind and body has been stolen."

Hanzo begins to tremble in Jesse's arms. Jesse feels his own heart swell and break at the same time.

"Genji's still conscious, ain't he?" Jesse starts.

"I worry that it is not truly him."

"Why's that?"

"He has new programming."

"Only to the extent that it replaces what he lost. It might be made instead a' grown, but it was made to work the same."

Hanzo hums with thought.

"Look, Hanzo," Jesse follows. "I could sit here and argue the measure of a man here for hours, but I think what you really need is to talk to him. Spend time with him, and you'll start to see that it's him."

Hanzo begins to laugh, brightening his bloodshot eyes.

"What?" Jesse asks.

"You are so kind to me."

"You made it pretty easy, doll."

More than ever, Jesse hates the rush he gets from using pet names with the subject of his affection.

Hanzo continues to laugh, and traces his hands over Jesse's back and waist as his tears subside. Jesse goes stiff. 

Hanzo removes his face from the crook of Jesse's neck, making eye contact. His hair is messy and trails of dried salt stripe his cheeks, but he's smiling and he looks lovely.

Jesse's will falters. Knowing he shouldn't, he reaches out to stroke the short, grey sides of Hanzo's hair.

He's always found them to be sexy, a reminder of how experienced of a man Hanzo is.

"I dye it." Hanzo says. His expression is soft, with slow blinks of his eye lids in Jesse's direction.

"The white?"

"No, all of it, black. The sides are the only place where the dye refuses to stick."

Jesse grins.

"You're grey as a wolf, then." he remarks, beyond amused. There's been so many moments tonight where Jesse needed to sock a cow that he can't pick one.

"Since nineteen, yes. Do not share this information." 

Jesse snorts, but then realizes Hanzo is probably telling the truth, with the stressful life he's lived.

"Little vain. That's cute." Jesse replies, unable to stop himself.

Hanzo mumbles a phrase in Japanese, and traces a hand under Jesse's ribs. 

"Didn't quite catch that." Jesse says as the color drains from his face.

"I said, I enjoy the part of your body that curves inward here." Hanzo whispers, and Jesse's stomach drops.

Jesse yelps as Hanzo leans in and presses a soft bite into the side of his neck. 

"Bed time." Jesse says again, unwinding Hanzo from his body. He reminds himself over, and over again that Hanzo is off his ass on pain meds, vulnerable, and most of all, that his actions don't necessarily reflect a sober desire.

Hanzo falls onto his back with a sweet little ' _oof_ ', with a look on his face that can only be described as mischievous.

"Put me to bed, then." he says with a smirk. He holds eye contact, grabs Jesse's god given hand, and presses a kiss to the knuckles. 

' _Hey, god, if you're listening,_ " Jesse prays, " _I know I ain't always, like, believin' in you, and sometimes I loudly question your choices in the case that you are real, and I know that I ain't been to church since mama died but I could use some of that will you were always talking about. Amen._ '

"Don't want you doing anything you'll regret, Hanz." Jesse warns, hoping the subtext comes through. He's not sure how much of this Hanzo will remember.

"Oh, there is no doubt I will regret all of this." Hanzo replies, audibly on the edge of a snicker.

Hanzo's eyes flutter shut as his lips part, bringing Jesse's pointer finger into his mouth, running his tongue--

Jesse yanks his hand away, but a half a second later than he should. He shakes the smooth, soft thought of contact with Hanzo's lower lip out of his mind. Hanzo smirks at Jesse's embarrassed expression, and Jesse knows he's being fucked with but he's not sure how much.

' _Hey there, Satan, I know I already sold you my soul for a bottle a' cheap brandy and the password to my old Netflix account, but I need your help._ ' Jesse pleads.

His prayers are answered.

"Where is your kitchen?" Hanzo asks suddenly, face white and eyes wide as he rolls off the bed and onto his feet.

Jesse points it out. 

"No, the other one." says Hanzo.

Jesse points to the bathroom. Hanzo walks with the swiftness of a child who's just been told to stop running around a pool.

Hanzo disappears from view, and Jesse hears wretching. His phone vibrates.

> **From Ana**  
_you made sure he got something to eat, right? if he doesn't eat anything, he's going to vomit_

Jesse gets from his bed, and stands at the bathroom door, preparing to barge in if anything happens. His phone vibrates again.

> **From Ana**  
_do you have all your shots?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "burn is a special level of hell" is a line stollen from firefly
> 
> I low key wanted to talk about the philosophy of AI for like a million years but then that pesky thing called needing to write stuff in character and keep an audience came up


	6. god I hate naming chapters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in a death match today and was playing Hanzo and a Genji killed me and said "I learned that from my brother" and I haven't thought about anything else since lol

The next morning Jesse stretches, already feeling the kink in his neck from spending the night on the couch. 

Well, technically it was more midday than morning. He had stayed up late into the night, listening to Hanzo's profound thoughts, making sure to redress his wounds that had reopened from the convulsions that came from vomiting, and making sure the man got fed.

Around three in the morning, Jesse had reluctantly left Hanzo alone in his own bed, but not before Hanzo admitted that he was glad for the pain meds, glad that they gave him the edge to speak honestly, glad that it was Jesse there to listen, glad that--

After that, Hanzo had only spoken in Japanese, but Jesse had assured him that his joy was reciprocated and that the night had indeed been special. 

Moving back to the present, Jesse walks past his bed to find it empty. He's less saddened by the fact Hanzo walked out, and more worried of how his next few interactions with a probably mortified Hanzo will play out.

He'll send a text later. His friendship with Hanzo is sturdy, after passing the tests of extreme combat and their duel emotional inadequacies. 

Jesse makes his way to the kitchen to find that the ants are back, hungrily going for a few bread crumbs littered across the floor.

Jesse sighs, pulling out the vacuum. This is his own damn fault.

" _Vacuuming up ants,_ " Jesse sings to no tune in particular, " _they're just lookin' for food and I'm killing 'em by the dozens, and I could've avoided it if I just cleaned my floor because I knew this would happen, but I didn't cause I got no ambition. I'm ending the lives of these ants through my own lack a' will, I'm not sure I'm a good person but god knows the same damn thing is gonna happen next week_ \--"

"Are you not aware that I am still here?" a voice cuts in.

Jesse turns to see Hanzo, fully dressed and hair wet from the shower.

"Can't say I was, no." Jesse replies, and he goes for a hat tip before realizing all he's wearing is a pair of boxers and one sock.

Hanzo raises an eye brow. Jesse stands uncertain, waiting for Hanzo to make the first move.

Hanzo's shifts towards the front door, and speaks as Jesse opens his mouth.

"I apologize." says Hanzo at the same time Jesse says "Don't apologize."

Hanzo looks even more miffed than usual, but at the risk of days of awkward silence, Jesse is honest.

"Ain't got nothing to be sorry for." Jesse starts. "You didn't do anything off-putting, you weren't a burden, and in all the goddamn honesty in the world it was nice to see you so unguarded."

Jesse, of course, had left out the details and lied about the whole 'anything off-putting' thing, figuring it would be better for him not to know.

Jesse's words hang as Hanzo tightens his mouth and scans Jesse's face for truthfulness.

"Alright." Hanzo says. "Then it is safe to assume we are still on for the practice range tomorrow?"

"A' course."

Hanzo turns to the door again, but with a much more relaxed expression this time around.

A relaxed expressed that quickly falters, that is, as he looks back at Jesse with wide eyes.

"I did not dance, did I?" asks Hanzo, with new and real fear in his low voice.

"Uh..."

Jesse's silence and expression are apparently telling, as Hanzo winces with shame, curling his hands and distancing them a few inches from his body, as if he's too disgusted to touch his own form.

"Oh." groans Hanzo, voice overflowing with regret.

"You were so good." Jesse nearly pleads.

Hanzo's free hand covers his stone-white face as his wince deepens.

"You were so good, Hanz." Jesse repeats, smile plastered to his face as Hanzo reaches for the doorknob.

Hanzo leaves in a huff of shame, but Jesse is more than pleased when the man says--

"Just do not be late tomorrow."

~~~~

The final time it happens before Jesse snaps is just a week later. A mission in Numbani had just transpired, and Jesse sits with Hana, Lucio, and Fareeha in the red velvet seats of a train car as he clears them out.

"Are you never not bluffing?" Hana wines as Jesse rakes in the chips. Jesse just winks. He's more than aware Hanzo is not present, and not just because if he was, McCree wouldn't be winning.

They had been stuck on this stupid train for six hours now. A few members had piped up about not wanting to travel the good part of the trip from goddamn Africa to Europe by train, but Ana had claimed that she liked trains, and that it was her birthday. Everyone had felt too guilty to argue.

After Jesse gets bored of taking the children's money, he bids them farewell for now and sets out on a walk through the brightly lit, modern cars.

It's a rather large train for one small team, but Jesse isn't complaining as he passes by the empty seats. As he enters the dining car, he catches a sight that encourages him to stay.

Hanzo is the sole soul in the segment, tucked into a chair against a window that's displaying some rolling Mediterranean forests. His hands are gripping a book, and resting on a small, square table with just enough room for two. Next to him lays a few more novels, of varying sizes. 

He's wearing the glasses again.

Jesse knows he's interrupting, knows he spends way too much time starting conversations with Hanzo, but still goes over and sits across from the man, anyway.

"Whatcha reading?" asks Jesse, propping up his elbows on the wood surface.

"Only the finest." Hanzo replies, and Jesse catches sight of the brightly covered, 4th grade reading level novel Hanzo is making his way through.

"Best Friends for Never?" Jesse reads from the spine.

"I am out of other things to read."

Jesse examines the stack of novels next to Hanzo with amusement. It seemed he started at Vonnegut and ended at Gossip Girl.

Jesse begins to read from the back cover. 

" _Massie Block is still gorgeous, still trendsetting, still ruling over Octavian Country Day...she hopes._ " he recites. " _To keep her spot at the top, Massie decides to throw the first boy/girl sleepover_ \--"

Jesse cuts himself off, able to speak through his blooming laughter.

"My phone died." is Hanzo's justification.

"Not exactly Voltaire, but hey. It'll getcha through your first menstruation cycle. Where did you even find this?"

Hanzo lowers the book two inches so that he can stare Jesse down with piercing eyes.

"What?" snickers Jesse.

"If you must distract me from my lovely novel which delves into the sociological implications of young girls submerged into class dynamics and vain cultures tragically before they are old enough to understand their own emotions, I ask you to entertain me." he answers, and puts the book down.

Jesse is up to the challenge.

"You're thinkin' too much about it." he starts.

"I am aware." Hanzo replies, face emotionless.

"No, I mean that ain't the only point of books. A book is supposed to let you play out a vivid fantasy of livin' as a dairy farmer a thousand years ago in Sweden, or a girl who's makin' friends and foes with aliens in space, and with some strangely religious undertones--"

"May I not do both?"

"I ain't sayin' a man can't do both, but I recon you don't seem like the kinda guy who would let himself be indulged."

"You seem to think me someone who's mind is constantly at odds with itself, with one side wanting to show passion and emotion, while the other is too prideful and self-aware for such nonsense."

Jesse grins and shakes his head.

"Gotta find drama somewhere." 

"I do have fantasies, McCree. And I do indulge myself, although I rarely find stories that amuse a certain desire I wish to be played out. So I make my own, just like everyone else."

"You daydream?"

Hanzo is silent.

"What about?" Jesse follows.

"You do not need to know the content, just that they exist."

"Tell me."

"They're foolish."

"Tell me."

Hanzo sighs, but Jesse can see the familiar, hidden hint of a smile on his face. Like always, Jesse would never have pried this much if he hadn't picked up that Hanzo was enjoying it.

"Tell me one of yours, and I will relieve your curiosity." Hanzo offers.

Jesse pretends like he has to think about it.

"Hopping away on a box car with a guitar tuned a step and a half lower than standard." he answers.

"You are so..." Hanzo replies with a smirk, "...folksy."

"Much ablidge."

"Only you would derive validation from a simple observation. Share a more detailed daydream. I hardly believe that is all you have to offer."

Jesse scoffs but delves anyway like the enchanted idiot he is. 

"I dunno," he starts, "I wanna get married. Well, not married, but settle down with someone. Weeeell, not settle down, but 'not settle down' together, you know?"

Jesse pauses, and Hanzo folds his hands, and his mouth lifts in what Jesse would call if he didn't know any better, a wistful smile.

"You're mockin' me." Jesse guesses.

"I usually am. But continue."

Jesse groans, but complies.

"Eventually, though, I would wanna stay put somewhere. When I'm all adventured out, I'd go with my sweetheart to some small town, and watch over it. Make sure the laws stay just, make sure the kids all grow up healthy, build a community."

Jesse pauses. Hanzo says nothing.

"But that'd be a waste a' time. Feels selfish. Town so small, wouldn't mean nothing in the grand scheme of all hell." Jesse finishes.

"I can see you like that." Hanzo replies. "I can see you happy with such a lifestyle."

"Your turn." 

Hanzo is silent for yet another tick.

When he starts talking, it's barely above a wisper.

"Sometimes, when I have too much time on my hands and am stuck in the mindset of a mediocre child," he begins, "I am struck with the desire to live somewhere green and beautiful. A small, rural town, with Oxalis so thick that it resembles a pool when it grows. A town with a community, full of families that go generations back. I'd farm and trade and work with manageable conflicts, instead of all these between world powers and threats of genocide."

Hanzo smiles for a short, quick second before his expression returns to stoic. A piece of hair from his ponytail falls punctually undone into his face and Hanzo does nothing to stop it. Jesse's heart thumps, it's too much. 

"There would be only two classes, an upper-middle class and a lower-middle class." Hanzo continues. "I would be a part of the upper-middle class, of course, but I would not refrain from getting my hands dirty." 

Hanzo smiles again, but it lasts this time.

"And they bars would have quite the brews." he finishes.

Jesse feels his lips part with a sigh, and he's filled with the sudden desire to marry Hanzo and run away to Iceland.

He can't remember the last time he's wanted to kiss someone so badly. Hanzo's upturned lips and downturned expression, although the subject of Jesse's thoughts on many occasions before, are even more distracting than usual as the man finishes voicing his strangely familiar dreams.

He could do it. He could lean forward, just a few inches and do it. 

"You ever heard of the Shire, sweetheart?" says Jesse instead.

"The what?"

"I got some movies to show you when we get back."

"So be it." 

Hanzo gets to his feet, and for a second, Jesse is worried he's leaving. But no, he's just traveling a few feet away to the food.

It's not a very fancy dining car. There is no worker present, only a fridge, a microwave and a few boxes of oatmeal on top of a high counter.

Hanzo reaches for the oatmeal. 

He's too short.

Jesse watches as Hanzo reaches again, his hand stretched towards the boxes, his weight in the balls of his feet.

Hanzo falls back to his heels, but tries once more, his hand quivering to reach. Jesse is delighted.

He looks like he's about to give up and start scaling the walls when Jesse walks forward, putting just a few feet between the two of them.

"Please." requests Hanzo simply, turning sheepishly to look at Jesse's taller form.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Hanz, what's it like being the cutest?" Jesse blurts.

Woops.

He hadn't meant to say that.

The words simmer for a hot second. Hanzo raises an eyebrow and cocks his head with confusion. 

"What did you say?" he asks.

Jesse opens his mouth to inform Hanzo the comment was meant to be condescending.

"I asked you, what's it like being the cutest? Still waiting on an answer." Jesse says instead. He can feel that there's no smile on his mouth, only a eyes-half-closed, dreamy expression. No way to pretend that the comment was anything less than serious.

The silence is heavy. Hanzo's eyes narrow and Jesse hopes that the man will have the mercy to kill him instead of leaving Jesse to deal with rejection.

"Are you out of your mind?" asks Hanzo.

"No."

"The cutest what?"

The word 'cute' sounds foreign coming from Hanzo's mouth.

"Person." Jesse answers. "Maybe ever. You're the sweetest thing I've ever seen and it's killing me, darling."

Hanzo's confidence is gone in a flash. His skeptical, aloof expression disappears and it replaced by one of embarrassment. The tips of his ears redden and he backs into the counter, looking down at his hands.

"I do not understand." says Hanzo.

"What don't you understand?"

"Anything. Why are you saying these things?"

Jesse laughs, a dark and bashful sound as he shakes his head.

"I'm comin' onto you, if you're really gonna make me spell it out." he answers.

"I still don't understand." Hanzo replies, in the voice of someone who probably understands.

"Yes you do. You're smart."

Hanzo's breath comes out shaky when he responds.

"I am afraid I am wrong." he says.

"I don't think you're wrong."

"You find me, 'cute'? You find the things I do to be 'cute'?"

Twice again, the word is forced off Hanzo's tongue with distaste. Hanzo starts to fiddle nervously with his hair ribbon, something Jesse knew him only to do when extreamly nervous.

"Yes."

"What have I ever done that you would want to describe with such a word?"

"For god's sake, sweetheart, look what you're doing right now." Jesse answers. Hanzo's fingers jerk from his ribbon as soon as the words leave Jesse's mouth.

Jesse cautiously takes a step forward, and when he's met with no resistance, he takes another, and a other until he's in Hanzo's space. Hanzo complies as Jesse places hands underneath his strong, decorated forearms.

"You have questionable taste." says Hanzo, a tiny smile coating over the embarrassed confusion, which fuels Jesse's confidence when he responds.

"Think whatever you want, as long as it's clear that you're my taste."

Hanzo's hands fall, one touching lightly against Jesse's hip, and the other hesitantly to the tamed scruff on the edge of Jesse's face, and then up to his smoother cheek. Jesse feels a mix of relief, giddiness, and anticipation, as well as his own face twisting into a hopeless grin of endearment. 

"What is happening?" Hanzo asks, skin around his cheekbones pink and breath nearly as shallow as Jesse's. "Catch me up."

"I called you cute, you got all embarrassed, which was also real cute, by the way. Now I'm about the right distance away from you to kiss."

Jesse is surprised by his boldness, and apparently Hanzo is as well, as he lets out a tiny gasp that Jesse surely would have missed if he had been any farther away. 

"And why is that my responsibility? I believe our current position is your doing." Hanzo asks, somewhere between nervous and playful.

It's an adorable combination, and Jesse tells him so.

"Bakayarou." Hanzo replies, shaking his head. "You are an idiot, Jesse McCree."

"Only the--"

Jesse's words are cut off by a hand on the back of his neck pulling him forward. His hips fall against Hanzo's, pushing the man back into the counter. And his mouth falls against--

It takes Jesse half a second to realize Hanzo Shimada is kissing him, chaste but with a hint of movement. Jesse's eyes slide shut and his hat is knocked off his head to the floor, but he really, really doesn't care because Hanzo's mouth is just as soft and smart as expected.

Jesse has taken many, many risks in his life, but he can't remember the last one that paid out so well, leaving him feeling full to the brim with giddy affection. He also can't remember the last time he grinned so hard during a kiss. Probably because this was a new record.

Jesse lets his hands fall to Hanzo's waist, feeling the shape under the silk of the man's clothing. Hanzo's own hands are threaded in Jesse's hair, pulling lightly and carding through the perpetually uncombed locks.

Hanzo's mouth is dry and warm, and their lips move together with a more-than-content sigh from Jesse. Jesse presses forward, pushing Hanzo further into the counter-top. He parts his lips, and Hanzo jumps at the opportunity. Jesse feels a flicker of tongue and the taste of microwaved popcorn. When Hanzo gasps, Jesse realizes just how light headed he's become. 

Jesse slides his hands up and down from Hanzo's waist to just under his sharp hips. Hanzo's hands move from Jesse's hair to his shoulders, squeezing down on the lean muscle and--

Hanzo pulls away.

Jesse knows he truly looks like an idiot now, hair astray and pupils blown wide. But Hanzo's breathing is quick and Jesse feels like he's never really realized before just how much he likes attentive, dark brown eyes.

"What gives?" Jesse asks.

"What are we doing?" 

"I can't say for you, but somethin' I've wanted to do for a long time."

Hanzo leans forward to press a kiss to Jesse's mouth, quick and dry.

"That alright?" Jesse follows. When he's met with a nod, he drags a finger over the neat line of hair up Hanzo's sharp jawline, all the way up to his ear, and then to undo his hair ribbon.

"So cute." says Jesse as Hanzo's hair tumbles onto his shoulders.

"You are strange." Hanzo replies, moving his hands back to Jesse's hair. The right corner of Hanzo's mouth has been twisted up into a tiny smile ever since their lips had parted.

"So cute." Jesse repeats, touching Hanzo's smile.

"I do not understand you."

"You've been torturin' me, sweetheart. Sometimes I just wanna go out and, I don't fuckin' know, punch a cow square in the face."

Hanzo's body shakes under Jesse's hands as he chuckles.

"What? A cow? The animal?" Hanzo snickers.

"Yeah. Just sock one, right between the eyes. A cow, or Chairman Mao. One a' the two."

"This is very specific."

"I love you."

Hanzo's aumused expression subsides, and for a horrible moment, Jesse is worried that he just ruined whatever wonderful senario he had stumbled himself into.

Untill Hanzo lifts himself up into a sitting position on the counter and says--

"I know."

With a smile that decimates Jesse's ability to formulate proper thoughts, no less.

"Everybody loves it when you're cheeky." Jesse mocks, cupping the right side of Hanzo's face with just the tiniest smack.

"Shut up."

"Shut me up."

Hanzo shuts him up.

This time, Hanzo's lips part right away. Jesse moves his hands up Hanzo's thighs. The countertop brings Hanzo's face a few inches higher, rendering them the same height.

Hanzo's thighs are like the rest of his body; warm and strong and tempting.

Hanzo shivers as Jesse runs his hands under Hanzo's silky top, feeling the soft skin and hard strength, as well as sharp knives the man had strapped under his clothing, apparently.

"So cute." Jesse repeats again between hungry kisses.

"So loud."

"Wanted to tell you--so long." 

Jesse groans as Hanzo presses teeth carefully over his lower lip, and Hanzo grins.

Jesse pulls away, suddently needing to get an eye full of Hanzo's flushed face and mouth red from attention, just to make absolute sure that this is really happening.

"What?" Hanzo asks, still with the same half smile that's actually killing Jesse.

"I know I got us into this, but is there anything we need to discuss?"

Hanzo chuckles. Apparently, he's full of laughter today.

"Oh, do not worry," he answers, "We will be having quite a long conversation later."

This time, it's Jesse who presses in for another kiss, so many now he's losing track. Losing track of everything, hands and mouths and happy snickers and short flickers of tongue and--

"Hello, boys." a woman's voice says.

Jesse yelps and jumps away from Hanzo, untangling his hands from the man's hair to see Ana, standing but five feet from them. She makes her way to the fridge and Jesse breaks his own personal record for most immediate loss of an erection.

"How's it going?" she asks.

"Mam." Jesse greets in a sort of strangled voice.

"Needed a bit of milk for my coffee." Ana explains as she reaches into the fridge, right next to their bodies and winks. "Don't tell anyone, they all think I only take it black."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Jesse replies.

Besides the obvious amusement on Ana's face, her behavior doesn't acknowledge the state she had obviously caught them in.

Hanzo's face, on the other hand, is stone cold, tilted away from making eye contact from anyone.

"Not even sure why I drink coffee in the first place." says Ana as she pours milk into her drink. "Makes me jittery, and that _don't appeal to me in the slightest_."

The second part of Ana's sentence comes out in a mocking drael and it's at that moment that Jesse realizes that Ana Amari is actually the devil.


End file.
